alright I´m on johnson avenue in san luis obispo
and I´m five years old or six maybe.
and indications there´s something wrong with our new house
trip down the wire twice daily
I´m in the living room watching the watergate hearings
while my step father yells at my mother.
launches a glass across the room, straight at her head
and I dash upstairs to take cover.
lean in close to my little record player on the floor.
so this is what the volume knobs for.

I listen to dance music.
dance music.

ok so look I´m seventeen years old,
and you´re the last best thing I´ve got going.
but then the special secret sickness starts to eat through you.
what am I supposed to do?
no way of knowing,
so I follow you down your twisting alleyways,
find a few cul de sacs of my own.
there´s only one place where this road ever ends up.
and I don´t want to die alone.
let me down, let me down, let me down gently.
when the police come to get me

I´m listening to dance music.
dance music